


Predatory

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-12
Updated: 2005-12-12
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7398418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mere.” But Billy doesn’t move; there’s no need to, since Dom is already crawling across the floor toward him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predatory

“C’mere.”

But Billy doesn’t move; there’s no need to, since Dom is already crawling across the floor toward him.

The television’s blue glare lights Dom’s intent, slightly predatory, fairly drunken face; it lights Orlando, sprawled snoring in the armchair, and Elijah, asleep on the sofa. Billy’s just fine where he is, in the other armchair and feeling no pain, and he’s not about to go to Dom when Dom is obviously coming to him. So he waits, and he watches.

“They’re all asleep, yeah?” Dom’s right there, now, and Billy’s grin goes a little rigid when Dom half-crawls into his lap—he’s still kneeling on the floor, but his torso is draped across Billy’s thighs, and his scrawny, strong arms force themselves around Billy’s waist. Dom’s crooked chin is propped high on Billy’s right thigh, and he looks earnestly up at Billy’s face.

“Passed out, or asleep. As we should be, aye?” Billy starts to shift, starts to push Dom back and off, but Dom closes his eyes and moves, bends his head and puts his mouth squarely on Billy’s groin.

“I don’t wanna sleep, Bill,” Dom murmurs, and the words and his breath warm Billy’s crotch; Billy’s fingers are suddenly tight on the arms of the chair. “I wanna suck you off.”

“What the fuck...” Billy wishes he could let go of the chair, but he can’t.

“Been wanting to forever,” Dom says. He’s got his arms right around Billy’s waist, and now he presses his open mouth to what Billy is mortified to notice is a sizable bulge in his jeans. “Wanna suck your dick, lick it and suck it until you’re so hard, Bill.” Dom nuzzles the bulge and it’s not just Billy’s dick that’s rigid, it’s his whole body. “I want to pull you out of your pants and lick every inch of your cock, get you red and sweaty and whimpering.”

“I don’t whimper,” Billy manages, but to his horror the words are so weak as to come perilously close to qualifying as exactly that.

“I wanna make you moan, Billy,” Dom says, and he tilts his head and closes his teeth firmly on what’s less a bulge than a ridge, now, so that Billy’s hips jerk up involuntarily until Dom releases him. “Wanna go down on you and suck till it makes you let go, till you grunt and grab my head and hold it down and fuck my mouth.” Dom shoves himself up a few inches—dragging his chin over Billy’s denim-clad erection, and Billy watches through glazed eyes as Dom worries at his fly with his teeth until he has an upper corner firmly between his incisors. He tugs at it and Billy’s button-fly comes open with a pop-pop-pop... _pop_ —that lowest button takes a harder yank.

“What would you do if I was wearing a zipper?” Billy asks, fingers flexing on the chair arms, brain turning to jelly at this turn of events. 

“Who fucking cares?” Dom replies, and he nuzzles Billy’s erection, which strains against his boxers, trying to escape into the open air (or perhaps, Billy thinks, dazed, into Dom’s mouth). Dom gets to work and Billy starts breathing heavily.

“How drunk are you?” Billy rasps, just as Dom’s hands worm back to his sides and begin tugging on his jeans.

He ignores the question, and: “Lift your arse,” Dom grunts, taking his mouth off Billy’s prick, which he’s been mouthing and licking through the thin cotton of Billy’s boxers; Billy wouldn’t have thought that would be hot, but it really really is, and now he lifts his hips without thinking about it (he can’t think anyway, not anymore) and Dom yanks his trousers and boxers down in one go, a bit rough so Billy’s (fucking hard, ah, god) cock springs free and slaps him on the belly. Dom wrestles Billy’s jeans and all to his knees and surges up and forward again.

Dom swallows him, fucking swallows him whole, and Billy moans (loudly, and oh, shouldn’t do that because Elijah and Orlando are right—oh god—there—still asleep but Jesus, oh—) and thrusts upward. He manages to lift one shaking hand and thread his fingers into Dom’s hair as Dom sucks and licks, head bobbing, lips creating a tight seal around Billy’s shaft and sliding rapidly up and down and then up as his tongue swipes around the head—Billy shakes, keeps himself from holding Dom’s head still by a supreme effort. “Dom—” he whispers, choking. “I’m, oh, fuck. Dom—”

Dom hums, low and maddening, vibrating through Billy’s pelvis, and he wraps one hand around the base of Billy’s cock, squeezing and releasing over and over, mouth plunging down, wet and hot and ah, ah, ah—Billy has to stop making noise, he wrenches his other hand off the arm of the chair and stuffs it into his mouth, biting down as he begins to thrust steadily upward. Dom hums again, or maybe that’s a moan.

His hand is gone from Billy’s cock, fingers slipping lower to cup and finger Billy’s balls. Billy’s legs open wider as he shoves himself up, hard; Dom chokes and recovers, and one wet finger presses into Billy’s perineum, making him bite down hard on his own fist. His eyes are closed, head back against the back of the chair as his whole world narrows to Dom’s mouth, hands, fingers, the sticky wet slide of his saliva and the thick, flexible muscle of his tongue, lips tight around Billy’s jerking, thrusting cock and oh, god, oh _god_ , Dom’s finger slips lower, almost accidentally but then— “ _Fuck!_ ” Billy cries, muffled around his fist, because _that_ wasn’t accidental, Dom’s finger slides further into Billy’s arse, wriggles around and Billy bucks and grunts and “Now,” he cries, slamming his head back and forward and then back, forgetting to stifle himself as he comes, hard, pumping himself into Dom’s mouth and moaning as he shoots pulse after pulse down his throat, one hand fisted in Dom’s hair, the other splayed uselessly in the air.

Dom chokes and swallows, swallows, swallows, his throat flexing around the head of Billy’s cock, that finger—maddening, fuck, _Jesus_ —curling again so Billy whimpers and writhes, hooked like a fish on Dom’s slowly dragging digit.

Dom pulls up and back, unaware or uncaring that his mouth is wet, that a trail of spit and come is making his chin glisten in the weird blue light from the television. “Come on,” he says, and stands up, leaning over Billy. “Get up.” He wipes his mouth carelessly and Billy closes his eyes.

“I can’t—walk—” Billy pants. He hasn’t heard a peep from Orlando and Elijah, prays through the dizzy spiral of his incoherent thoughts that they stayed asleep, passed out, whatever.

Dom looms over Billy for a moment and then crawls into his lap, the rough material of his trousers scraping on Billy’s bare thighs; he’s careful of Billy’s soft, damp cock. Dom’s eyes are dark and unreadable, gleaming, wanting. “C’mon,” he says again, and Billy can feel the hard curve of Dom’s cock against his belly, through denim. Dom kisses him, hands on either side of Billy’s face: dives right in and _kisses_ him, slick hard messy wet, soursalt taste of Billy’s seed strong on his tongue. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” Dom says when he pulls back. Billy’s still panting, from his orgasm and then that kiss, from Dom’s sudden, mad want—new to Billy but he likes it, liked that blowjob, hell yeah, likes this new Dom.

“Why the sudden modesty,” Billy says, willing himself to breathe normally. “They’re obviously too far gone to care.” He peers over Dom’s shoulder and sure enough, Orlando and Elijah are still out, thank fucking god; Billy’s got more than the next man’s share of exhibitionism as a general thing (except that Dom’s the next man at the moment, so never mind that), but he doesn’t have any desire to deal with Elijah’s gape-mouthed incredulity, Orlando’s wide-eyed shock. Thank god for whiskey and beer and sticky-sweet girly drinks that require a blender.

“C’mon,” Dom says yet again, and this kiss is softer, deeper, more demanding. “I want to fuck you, Bill. Bed’s more comfortable.”

Billy’s cock gives a sluggish twitch and he lets his head fall back again.

“Alright,” he says. “Alright.” He lets Dom pull him up, makes him wait as he kicks off his jeans and gathers them up, carries them with him as Dom tows him into the bedroom. 

“Leave ’em there,” Dom says, but he doesn’t really care, he’s already pulling his shirt over his head and turning back to Billy.

“I’d rather keep a few secrets from Lij and Orli,” Billy says dryly. He drops the clothes and closes the door, and Dom flattens him against it, mouth hard against Billy’s; his hands are busy at his own waist, the clink of his belt being unbuckled clear over the wet, pornographic sound of their kiss. They break to breathe and Dom shoves his trousers down—his cock, freed, prods Billy’s thigh. “Impatient fucker,” Billy says, and he laughs and shoves Dom back and down, onto the bed. 

“Get over here,” Dom growls, kicking his jeans off, hand gripping his cock lovingly, “wanna get inside you, ride you.”

Billy smiles, feeling it change his face, wicked and slow—he sees Dom’s swift breath and how he squeezes his prick, too, looking up at Billy from the bed—his face is unsure for the first time. “And who says you’ll be doing the riding?” Billy crosses the room. “Lie down, Dom.”

Dom does.


End file.
